What a Nice Day to Die
by facelessgunslinger
Summary: What a story I have to tell! How I Came back to life after my lover killed me and having to deal with the new woman he has taken under his care. Don't own Bleach! OC/Ichigo/Halibel
1. Chapter 1

Ok! This came from two rounds of sex from my girlfriend and one watching of the movie Wanted! Don't own Bleach! But some of the ideas of the story are from me!

_STORY START_

You know, killing is easy. No, really.

In a lot of cases, all you have to really do is pull the trigger. Bang, ok, time to go home. But for me, it never out of self-defense, honor, or even another person. It was just business. I also heard that before you pull the trigger, you hold your breath; don't, it doesn't work. You still feel the weight of the kill on your shoulders afterwards, like a lead brick decided to park it's heavy ass on your shoulders. Not fun. Maybe people like me and Ichigo are cursed to carry this weight, except he ran away from it; letting his responsibility fall to the ground and break like cheap glass. I had to carry it.

All the way to hell when I died.

It was his fault by the way; he wasn't there to kill with me like he had been and all it had taken was one bullet to the base of my neck... It wasn't fucking fair, but I guess few things are in this profession; I was eighteen. I think I still remember the face of the man who killed me, he was just a regular-looking guy; in over his head. His gun was some military-issue M4 carbine model. It was largely better than waiting for Ichigo to come and kill me. I can only imagine the way his leather killer's outfit would slide along his skin tightly. We would probably have one last shootout, taking out several city blocks before he put a steaming piece of lead between my eyes... Who am I kidding? Is there some nerd in the back row who is a future Hollywood director who might make this into a movie? Even I'm not that arrogant.

I'd be in a small section of my house (a bathroom or closet most likely) with a gun and wait till I hear footsteps. I'll stay holding my breath until they pass the door and pop out to get the jump on him. But there he'd be, just standing on my white carpet, just looking at me. I'd foolishly try to look at anywhere but his eyes, but, once again, I'd be trapped in those orbs of resolve and my knees would buckle. I'd drop my gun because I couldn't hold it anymore. I'd start to cry like a complete idiot and crawl over to him on the floor like some lower-class servant, then I'd wrap my arms around his leg and curse him for leaving me, for throwing me away. He would look down on me sadly, and pick me up with his strong arms and set down on my reclining chair, and let me cry like the good man he is. He'd wait and hold me closely as I sobbed myself asleep like the stupid woman I was. And he'll sit in the chair with me on his lap, just staring.

After a while; a long while, he would draw his gun; that S&W Model 500 Performance Center with the 10' barrel, bulky thing. The huge gun would be pushed less than an inch from my left breast, he knows I would wake up if I felt the barrel against any part of my body; we were trained that way. I couldn't tell you what kind of expression he would have on his face, I'd like to see a sad one but maybe I'm asking a little too much. He'd slowly pull the hammer back, racking his brain for any alternate way he could get me out of his way, and finding none. His finger had twitched uncontrollably, he knew he would be saying goodbye to the only thing separating him and the monster he was destined to be. He would squeeze the trigger.

I would never wake up. He'll walk to my bedroom, undress me and slip one of my silk night-gowns on my cooling body and set me on my bed like I had asked him to many a year ago. He'd grab my desk chair and pull it up next to the bed to stare at me one more time because he wanted to cement my image into his mind forever. Getting up, he'd start on his way out of the room but stop at the door, he would walk back to the bed and lean over me to kiss my lips one more time.

"I'll see you soon, love."

And he would, with events how they play out, I'll come back. But to find out how, you'll have to listen to the rest of my tale, won't you? Oh, Lucifer is at the door. Charming place; Hell. I'm coming, love. Must end the introduction right you know. Don't give me that face, we both know I have another five minutes before I must return to my sentence. What, yes I know time is of no conscience here but I must finish. Hmm, I guess the audience will find out for themselves anyway... Of course I'll give you that back-rub you like so much. Ask and you shall receive and such.

I regret I won't be the storyteller from here on, but rest assured that I'll leave you in capable hands.

Goodnight Ichigo, I'll see you in the morning light... my love.

_STORY END_

REVIEW! I feel LONELY!


	2. Bringing down the house

Hah! Back from the grave! I'm sorry I haven't been updating my stories lately, but an old flame got a hold of me a while ago and said she had a couple of kids with my DNA, so naturally: Lets do a blood test on the little brats! Result: I'm a daddy! I'm kinda just trying to get out of parenthood and make this up with my fiance.

Fun fact: You know me and my brother lost our virginities in the _same _year? (His age: 15 My age: 8) You might want to not know that but I couldn't think of anything else!

Don't own Bleach!

_CHAPTER START_

Killing is easy.

Yeah, I said it.

It's true. In training, I always said I'd die with nothing. I was half right. Back then, I didn't really think a lot of it but now I realize: meeting Rukia was when I signed my own death warrant.

She always did say a woman would kill me.

I killed someone. That scientist with makeup (I forgot his name...). The freak finally pushed me too far. I didn't even think of the consequences. I swear it was just like the old days: flatten my hand, rear back my arm, and thrust it cleanly through the chest. It didn't even click in my mind, until I saw my own, bare fingertips jutting out of his back, and I let him fall. His daughter, Nemu, beaten and bloody by her own father's hand, looked up at me in some morbid fascination. She was grateful, that much I was sure. To her, I ended her nightmare.

But the thing about nightmares; you wake up, and it's not always better than the dream.

Rukia saw me.

She saw the whole thing from the doorway. She must've been searching for me because of tendency of getting lost. I really wanted to tell you that she calmed herself and I explained the situation to her, then we calmly left to go hide the body.

But she screamed.

God did she scream, like a banshee. I'm sure everyone heard her. I ran. It was all a blur after that.

I don't really know why I'm here. Sitting on the roof of my house as I am, with a pistol in my hand. It was a silver Ruger MK. II pistol. A small caliber firearm I kept as a reminder of better days. Days with _her _in them. I stopped by the visoreds place a while ago, they got word that Soul Society was coming for me. A kill on sight order was issued.

I couldn't run.

Soul Reapers would find my family and friends, torture them. Chad, Orihime, Karin, Yuzu; nothing would be below them. I had one choice. After the Winter War, numerous arrancar had survived including: Tia Halibel, Grimmjow, and Coyote Stark. I wondered if I'll be a powerful hollow? Probably. Knowing my unpredictable power. I chambered the pistol right at the moment Byakuya happened to show up.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you are under arrest by order of the central 46!" I heard the sound of a sword and knew he had drawn Senbon Zakura. I smiled as I realized he knew nothing of the pistol. He advanced toward me slowly, probably savoring the moment he would recount in his latter years as the executing of a 'spineless murderer'. I couldn't help but grin, sorry prick, but you aren't going to get _this _criminal.

I put the gun in my mouth and fired.

And felt nothing.

I turned around to find Byakuya gone, and the gates of hell in his place. I could vaguely sense him on a nearby rooftop, looking on in disbelief as I walked toward it, pistol in hand. My body laying on the roof, dead. I looked down at my hands, seeing white, bony claws, I looked at my feet, to see wolf-like feet poking from under my pants' legs. I looked at the gates as a fragment of te stone door chipped off and revealed a reflective film across it. I had a completely blank mask, with only a small chip on the left side. My horns from my hollow form were larger and more natural-looking, like I had swiped them from Lucifer himself. All bone white.

The gates slowly opened. And there stood death.

He pointed at me with one, large, clawed hand. Then beckoned me closer. It seemed to lean forward at my approach.

_**Ready, Ichigo?**_

"Yeah..." I answered honestly, feeling comfortable talking to the immortal entity now that I'm dead.

His shadowed face was obscured, but it seemed sad.

_**You've lead a good life, young one, you're only here on a technicality. You **_**will **_**be treated right.**_

"Thanks..." I was just out of that world for that moment, I didn't care. Death's body language was saying that he wanted me to be happy. Then he squared his massive shoulders and spoke.

_**She's here, you know**_

I couldn't help myself, I dove in, feet-first.

_CHAPTER END_

Ichigo: Did I just shoot myself!

Faceless: Why yes, yes you did...

Ichigo: You Bastar-

Faceless: No foul language with ladies present.


End file.
